Pain is just a feeling
by Targlover
Summary: Rhaelle Targaryen strives to be worthy of her family name. Jaime Lannister strives to be worthy of his father. And in all the madness and chaos, they find solace in each other. Slightly AUish, follows Robert's Rebellion. Jaime/OC. (Prologue re-written)
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey guys! So this is my first attempt at writing a GoT fanfic and I'm really excited about it! The story starts a few years before Robert's Rebellion and will loosely revolve around it**. **It's slightly AUish and based off more on the show rather than the books. I try my best to stick as true to the characters as possible, but I'm always open to suggestions, so hit me up :) Also, the prologue has been edited and re-written so hope you all like it :) So without further ado...**

* * *

 **Prologue**

 **Jaime**

 _Smoke, sweat and shit, they said. That's how Kings Landing smelled, they said._

Jaime scrunched his nose in disgust. His convoy stood outside the city gates of the 'glorious' capital, yet he was anything but impressed. The tales he heard when he was younger, of the brave Kings and Queens, their magnificent dragons and castles, all seemed to be such a huge letdown. Even the city gates, each of which were supposed to be an architectural masterpiece, didn't pique his interest as much. Except for the Lion Gate.

It was a regal structure, he observed, with intricate gold-plated designs he assumed could only be from the finest gold-mines in Lannisport. It complemented well with the red-clay bricks surrounding it, a supposed homage to the Red Keep, but could very well be another subtle nod to his family. His main interest, however, was piqued by the roaring lion's head on top, blinding him in its opulence. It almost reminded him of their words.

 _Hear me roar._

"Do you know the history behind this?"

He turned to see his father stare at him intently. They sat at the helm of the convoy with a few of their bannermen and soldiers behind. The soldiers lined up perfectly, not even a single man out of formation, and Jaime had to admire his father's military discipline. It would have taken a lot of strength and dedication to achieve a well-disciplined army as such. But then again, there wasn't much the mighty Tywin Lannister couldn't do.

Towards the far end of the convoy stood _her_ carriage, decked in bright red and gold. His heart thumped loudly in his chest as he thought of the last time he spoke to Cersei. Ever since they left Casterly Rock, he had done nothing short of avoiding her. He was in pain and hoped that maybe his actions would make her realize how broken he felt. But as the days passed by, it felt as if she couldn't care any less.

"Jaime."

He caught his father's gaze, obvious displeasure on his face as his words fell on deaf ears. Jaime shook his head slightly and was met with another disappointed gaze. Nevertheless, Lord Tywin continued, much to Jaime's chagrin.

"Centuries ago, Aegon Targaryen conquered the Westerlands and made Loren Lannister the Warden of the West. He went on to become an important ally and hence, the Lion Gate was built to commemorate the alliance." He paused for a moment and passed on a quick signal to ready the soldiers up. "That alliance has kept our house in power for all these years and that very alliance will keep us in power for the years to come. I hope you understand your role in this." His father's eyes bore deep in his, and Jaime found momentary relief in the sounds of the gate opening.

He tried to get a good look at the city, but it was the overwhelming stench that hit him first. He felt startled for a minute only for Lord Sumner Crakehall, the man he squired for, to quickly rush to his side.

"All right, my lord?" He asked.

Jaime nodded silently, the new dynamics of their relationship all too strange for him. He held the man with high respect and dignity, yet at this moment he was Jaime Lannister, the son of the Hand of the King and liege lord to the Crakehalls. He looked up to see his father already riding ahead and quickly fell in line with his former Lord.

"How many people live here?" He asked Lord Crakehall, snapping him out of his daze. A huge crowd had started to gather around the procession, naturally drawn towards the show put out in front of them. He saw people stare wide-eyed, the opulence of Lannister gold blinding against their street rags. A young girl caught his eye as she watched him carefully, her hand rubbing through her matted hair. Scantily clad and dirty, even the smallfolk at the Rock fared better.

"About half a million, my lord."

"What?" Jaime asked, surprised. "The city can't hold that many."

"People believe that the capital harbors plenty of opportunities. A pauper's fairytale and a nobleman's nightmare, they call it." He shrugged. "But it's all a farce, I tell you."

Jaime looked around and could almost see the city limits in sight. The city was barely large enough to hold all the structures, let alone the people inside. It was meant to be the seat of royalty; the smallfolk be damned.

 _How unbecoming of me,_ he thought, a silent chuckle escaping his lips. _The son of a great Lord caring a bit too much for the smallfolk._

The sun set upon the city and cast an orange hue over the sky. Over the horizon, he saw the castle nested on Aegon's Hill, the red clay glowing under the rays of the setting sun. For a moment, he was at a loss for words. While the Red Keep was not as large or intricate as Casterly Rock, the castle did not fail to disappoint. He heard stories of the castle glow as bright as the flames of a thousand dragons, and once he saw it with his own eyes, there was no looking elsewhere.

The horde arrived at the gates of the Keep and marched towards the Tower of the Hand. An old man stood at the entrance, his long gold-cloak glimmering on his back with spotless armor shining under the sun. It hardly took Jaime a minute to recognize the man in front of him; the famed Ser Barristan Selmy. He stood tall and broad and looked quite well for his age. A sense of admiration swelled up in Jaime's chest, along with a bit of anxiety; he was going to meet his childhood hero after all. The man beamed brightly as the father and son pair got off their horses and made their way to him. Tywin himself greeted the knight warmly, a sense of the respect with which he held the man as well. A few words were traded before Ser Barristan's gaze fell on the young Lannister.

"You must be the young lad your father keeps talking about." Ser Barristan smiled.

"It's an honor, Ser." Jaime replied, humbly.

"That sword of yours, do you know how to swing it?" He asked, pointing to the sword on Jaime's waistband.

"Quite well, I believe."

"Well, I ought to see it for myself then. We could always use a man with your talents." He chuckled, before silently muttering to Lord Tywin, "Your presence has been requested, My Lord."

Tywin nodded sharply and shot a commanding gaze towards his son. Jaime stood in awe, however, and watched the great knight walk away, leaving behind dreams of probably his own great adventures in his wake. He looked around to see the troops get to work immediately, making the necessary preparations to settle in their lords. He set to oversee the preparations, only to find Cersei's doe-eyes staring at him intently. Their eyes lingered for a moment before he pulled away, finding his resolve slowly crumbling. He quickly set the work in motion before heading up to their quarters, hoping to find peace and probably a bit more strength in his solace. He chose the room facing the sea and stood by the balcony, watching the waves crash onto the sandy banks. He watched as the ships docked at the harbor and sighed. How he had wished he were on one of them, with Cersei, sailing halfway across the world by now. He couldn't care less about traditions and alliances, talks of honor and family. He would give up each and every one of them if it meant that he could be with Cersei.

 _Cersei._

"Cersei?"

She was his twin, his other half, and the connection they bore was strong. He could feel what she felt and knew when she was around. Just like she was then.

But he firmly kept his back to her.

"You know me so well, brother." She walked up to him, slowly sliding her fingers down the length of his arm before locking her hand in his.

He shivered under her touch.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"You seem to be unhappy." She replied, pulling him towards her. He kept his head down, knowing well that if he let her see even a glimpse of weakness, all would be lost. She placed a finger under his chin and lifted his eyes to her level. He found himself fighting a losing battle, her jade eyes holding their own. He hated the power she held over him, and she loved it. "Jaime."

Internally, he was crushed. Her eyes were locked on his and their bodies were mere inches away from touching. All he wanted right now was to cup her face in his hands and kiss her without a care in the world, and yet he fought against it.

"How could you?" He burst out. "How could you be alright with this? How could you be alright with marrying the Prince?"

"It is what father wishes." She replied.

"What do you wish for?"

"Whatever is necessary."

He felt his heart break once more. He tried to pull back, but Cersei's hands kept him firmly in place. "What of our love?"

She chuckled softly. "You are so naïve." She said, cupping his face in her hands. "I do love you… but I can't throw away an opportunity to marry the Prince. Only a fool would do so."

"And you're no fool." He replied quietly.

"I'm not, dear brother. Which is why we shall be together forever."

"How so?" He retorted. "You shall remain in Kings Landing while I shall marry the Princess and return back to Casterly Rock. If at all they let us marry them."

Cersei looked him square in the eye. "They shall." He saw the anger budding in her eyes, just like they always did when she was denied something. If she was not going to see the logic in this situation, he would make her.

"Why would they? Aren't the Targaryens known to wed brother to sister? Then why shall they do otherwise?"

"If father wishes for something, it shall happen." She stared at him murderously for a moment before twisting her lips back in her mischievous smile. It scared him. " _I shall marry the Prince, brother._ And after I do so, we'll be together again. You have my word."

He didn't have it in him to argue anymore. Part of him wanted to believe her, but the other wasn't so sure. He wanted to snap her out of her delusion but realized it would all go in vain. When Cersei made up her mind, there was nothing he could do to change it. He resigned to fate for now, and wrapping her in his arms, settled for watching the waves break onto the shores gently.

It reminded him so much of home.

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 **AN: And there it is! Jaime Lannister is by far my favourite character on the show and I love the potential his story offers. Let me know what you think. Reviews are much appreciated :)**

 **Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Rhaelle**

Her father was not always an evil man.

Though she didn't know much herself, she heard a lot about it from Rhaegar. He would talk fondly of his childhood memories with a glint of happiness in his eyes. He would talk of a doting father, a promising King and a supportive husband.

It was odd that she barely recognized the man he spoke about.

Maybe fate was just unkind to him. Sometimes she would blame it on the miscarriages and the lost children. Sometimes she would blame it on the politics and the shrewd games. So many things to blame, yet she couldn't understand why he chose to blame her.

6 years after the birth of their first-born, everyone expected the King to be happy when the Queen bore him a healthy daughter. In retrospect, however, they should have seen it coming.

Aerys Targaryen went in a frenzy, to a point where he called the child cursed. _His seed was strong and pure,_ he said, and couldn't bear a child who looked so little of him; lilac eyes to his deep purple, a mix of black and silver to his pure silver mane. Rhaella pleaded with him, begged him to see reason and after long convinced him that their child, although different, was special. That was probably the only thing that convinced him to leave her alive.

That didn't mean her life was any short of a cruel joke though. The Red Keep had become her forced choice of residence with the terrace being her maximum exposure to the outside. But the worst was the abuses, not even hers, but of her mother's. So frequent had it become that Rhaella stopped crying, the servants grew more insensitive and her and Rhaegar more hopeless.

When she was younger, she would run to the small Sept constructed within Maegor's. She would fall to her knees in tears and pray to whichever God would hear her to stop her mother's agony. When that didn't happen, she would pray for the Gods to at least give her mother the strength to bear her suffering. When that didn't happen either and she realized that the Gods never truly listened to her prayers, she would go to the Sept to simply find a moment of peace.

The Sept was the farthest from her father's chambers.

* * *

"I don't understand why you look so sombre?"

She smiled when she heard his voice.

"I didn't realize you were the only one allowed to brood."

Rhaegar sheepishly ran his fingers through his hair and settled down beside her. They sat in silence as they watched the waves flow into the rocks.

"Do you remember the time I tried to teach you swimming here?" Rhaegar asked.

She let out a small laugh, her mind going back to that day. She had slipped through one of the currents and her drenched dress added to the unnecessary weight that kept her down. She was lucky to have made it through that incident.

 _Though she wasn't sure she would call it "lucky"._

"Of course, I do. You nearly got me killed that day. If you hated me so much, dear brother, I rather have you tell me."

"I shall keep it in mind then." He replied, chuckling. "Thank the Gods for Ser Barristan that day."

She nodded in agreement. Ser Barristan had somehow noticed that the siblings were missing and surprisingly tracked them down too. He was the one that pulled out his drowning Prince and Princess from the water and scolded them in a way she could have never imagined. Not that it wasn't unwarranted for. He later took them to his own personal quarters at the White Sword Tower to get them cleaned up, so as to avoid alerting their parents of the incident.

"Thank the Gods, indeed." She muttered, her eyes still focused on the waves in front of her. She saw Rhaegar stir near her and look at her expectantly, waiting for her to tell him what was bothering her. If it was anyone else, she probably would have stuck with ignoring them but this was her brother, and she couldn't keep anything from him. "I'm afraid father will make the announcement soon."

The smile on his face fell instantly, just as she had expected. They had discussed this many times before but with her fifteenth nameday coming up, they could barely afford to put it off. He drew in a deep breath, unsure of what to say himself. He looked at her, carefully choosing the words leaving his mouth. "I understand that our father is an unreasonable and irrational man, but he would never take such a big step before consulting us first."

He chose the wrong words.

Rhaelle ran a finger down her right shoulder, feeling the recently formed bruises. She accidently brushed against a healing scab and slightly winced in pain. "The King does as he likes."

It only took a minute to move from surprise to shock. Rhaegar looked at her with a concerned gaze, his fingers grazing across the skin her own recently touched. She flinched softly. "How did this happen?"

She tried hard not to cry, but it was proving to be a mammoth task. Just thinking of the incident and a crying Viserys made her tear up slightly, but she tried not to.

"My maid came in the morning, telling me that father had dragged Viserys with him to the infirmary. I couldn't help myself." She said, tears threatening to spill out. "When I got there, I saw him forcing Viserys to hack through dead bodies. He was so traumatized, Rhaegar. He wouldn't stop crying."

"And then father struck you?"

"As I tried to take Viserys away, yes. With the hilt of his sword."

Rhaegar shuddered in anger. He got up in an instant, his hands balled up at his sides. He was seething in rage.

"Rhaegar, please. Let it be, please. You'll only make it worse."

"Why didn't you tell me?!"

"The King does as he likes." She muttered softly.

He sat down again, this time sinking his face in his palms. "I've failed our family."

"No, you haven't." She said, reaching out to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're everything our father is not. You're a good man."

He let out a frustrated sigh. "And yet I can't protect my family. There's nothing I can do to help mother, but there is something I can do when it comes to you and Viserys."

"Then talk to father about it, please. Dissuade him from it. He'll listen to you." She said, reminding him of what she said earlier.

He looked at her and she saw a tinge of sadness in his eyes, as she had seen several other times. Rhaegar was not an unhappy man but many a times she would find him staring at a distance, his mind elsewhere. He hardly spoke to her about it, but whenever he did, an air of melancholy surrounded them. Sometimes she wished he would share what burdened his heart. But he never did.

"Rhaelle…" He began, placing his hand over hers. "I only see you as a sister, and nothing more. And I'll make sure it stays that way, you have my word."

She smiled, a wave of relief washing over her. She would hate to be like her parents, forced into a marriage neither of them desired nor felt was right. That would not be her. And that would not be Rhaegar.

"So now what? I've just robbed the heir of a bride."

Rhaegar's smile came back. "I'm sure the seven kingdoms aren't short on eligible ladies. If anything, Lord Tywin will make it easier."

Her face scrunched in surprise. "Lord Tywin? How?"

"I doubt it's a coincidence that he's brought his children with him to court."

And then it struck her.

"He plans to offer you his daughter's hand in marriage."

He nodded. "Cersei Lannister is of age, and it is said that she's the most beautiful woman in all of the seven kingdoms."

"And what do you think of it?"

"Lord Tywin would make a formidable ally, and at a time when the country is on the brink of war, it would be useful to have him on our side."

"So, you'll agree to the match?" She asked, curiously.

"First, he has to make the offer. Second, I'll have to meet Cersei before making any decision."

"I understand. As the heir, it's important to make sure the future queen is just as fitting." She paused for a moment before continuing again. "I heard she's just as fierce as her father."

"I hope she's as kind-hearted as Lady Joanna."

She looked at her brother apologetically as he struggled with the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Only time will tell, brother."

"Time will tell, yes. Otherwise, we marry you off to Jaime Lannister to appease Lord Tywin."

"Excuse me?"

She saw him burst into a small laugh and nudge her softly. She loved seeing her brother like this, happy and free. This place and this moment was their own, untouched and untarnished. And she didn't feel like leaving.

"Only time will tell."

* * *

She couldn't help but feel uneasy.

She attended court only once yearly, on the occasion of her nameday. The King took it as an opportunity to showcase his _love_ for his eldest daughter, but she knew it was more of a subtle reminder of her existence to the outside world. She couldn't care less though; she wasn't that important, or at least that's what she believed.

Yet she couldn't help but feel uneasy this year.

It was probably the nervousness, she thought, of her father making the announcement, but it seemed unlikely. Once Rhaegar gave her his word, he would never go back on it. So, it was odd that she felt this way.

She hated being this uncomfortable.

Rhaelle tried to keep her head held high as she made her way to court and attempted to keep to her usual outer persona of being cold and detached, but failed miserably. The stares that she normally ignored intimidated her and the whispers she barely heard grew louder with each passing step. She anxiously fiddled with the tassels of her shawl, drawing them closer to her body.

The air felt cold for a summer day.

She glanced at the Hall from the sidelines and watched as the crowds started to fill in. It almost felt all too claustrophobic to see so many people in one place. She knew that none of them were here to commemorate their princess' nameday though, they didn't care that much. If they were here, it was for one thing only; the arrival of the celebrated Lannisters in court.

Her father was perched on the monstrosity that was the Iron Throne, ironically quite fitting for him. Rhaegar was seated to his right and her mother was seated down left, along with Viserys and the Kingsguard.

Her mother's condition terrified her.

The Queen bore a sullen face, drawing attention to her puffy eyes and swollen cheeks. From where she stood, Rhaelle saw the fresh marks emerge across her face, mingled between tears that now dried. She felt more pity than anger and wondered what sins had been committed for them to pay such a price. She silently cursed their fate and looked up, only to find her father staring right at her. His gaze was unwavering and she nervously gulped. She was going to pay the price for being too attentive. He pointed at her menacingly with his long and pointed yellow nail, his disregard for her quite evident on his face. She stood still, trying to not let him intimidate her, and was glad that the sudden commotion drew away his attention. A hoard marched in with her uncle Steffon Baratheon in the lead. But what intrigued her more was the flash of red and gold that followed behind. The whispers turned louder and more fingers raised in the air as Tywin Lannister passed by with his children.

Her uncle quickly took to stand next to the King and Lord Tywin at the base of the throne. He bore a slight scowl on his face and she realized that their current positions alone were indicative of the power shift taking place. Her father flashed a smile, the devious one she was all too aware of and glanced at his Hand. This was not going to be good.

"Ah, Tywin. I hope your trip to Casterly Rock bore fruitful."

"It was, your grace. Just a few things to be taken care of but rest assured, it's in able hands now."

"None so able as your own though." Her father replied.

"More so ever why my services are needed here." Lord Tywin replied curtly.

Her father didn't deal so kindly with such jabs. He paused for a moment and Lord Tywin took it as a cue to continue.

"Allow me to present my daughter, Cersei of House Lannister, your grace."

In the brief glimpse she got, Cersei Lannister was an utter beauty. She gracefully curtsied in front of the King and tousled her long blonde hair around her breasts. She stood shyly and cast a longing glance at her brother, her eyes pre-fixed on him.

"My, what a beauty." Her father eyed her ravenously. She smiled softly and chirped a silent gratitude to him. "It's a shame though." The King continued. "She reminds me so much of Joanna, doesn't she?"

She never thought Tywin Lannister could scowl as much as he did then. Joanna Lannister was always a sensitive topic and her father loved escalating the tension. It was remarkable that the man restrained himself so well and chose to completely ignore that comment.

"And this is my son, Jaime of House Lannister."

It was only then that she took a good look at the lad. He stood tall and lean, with blonde locks as luscious as his sister's falling on his face. He gently brushed them away and she heard the ladies in the back almost swooning. Jaime Lannister was supposed to be one of the more charming ones around, though she really couldn't see why.

"Welcome, my Lord." Rhaegar spoke up, trying to cut their father off from causing more tension. "I've heard great a deal of your talents. If you make good use of your time here, you could earn a fine name for yourself and be of great service to the crown."

The crowd cheered softly while the young boy humbly bowed before his Prince. The King, however, raised his hand and an eerie silence descended upon the crowd.

"Lord Steffon, would you kindly update Lord Tywin with the events that occurred in his absence." He said, his voice filled with volition.

"Firstly, we would like to commemorate the fifteenth nameday of our beloved Princess Rhaelle, second of her name, long may she live."

 _Long may she live,_ the voices echoed across the hall as several pairs of eyes turned towards her. She never liked the undue attention and would always search for that one pair in which she could find comfort, usually Rhaegar's. But for some reason, she found herself drawn to the most beautiful pair of jade orbs staring at her intently.

The ones that belonged to Jaime Lannister.

They held their gaze for what felt like the longest time, and she could feel her own emotions mirroring in his; anger, pain, helplessness. She could feel him staring into her soul, never knowing she could find such comfort in a stranger's eyes. She didn't want to pull away and was almost disappointed when he turned around, distracted by Rhaegar's voice.

"I understand your loyalty towards the crown, Lord Tywin, but the Kingswood brotherhood is a savage lot. I want you to fully understand the implications of this precarious situation."

"With all due respect, your grace," Jaime spoke up, "If I am to be of service to the crown, I should be presented with an opportunity as such. Allow me this opportunity, please."

Rhaegar considered it for a while. "If you insist, my Lord, then there's not much I can say except for good wishes for your task at hand."

The crowd applauded the decision. Rhaella beamed proudly at her son. Jaime bowed sharply and stood back to join in his father's ranks. The people loved Rhaegar, it was evident. He was kind where their father was not, brave and caring, and the people saw it. So did their father, whose growing rage against his son's popularity was driving the ridge between them. He stood up furiously, not willing to be part of this anymore, and stomped off lividly. Rhaegar watched uncomfortably, knowing well of what his actions caused. He sighed softly and quietly dispersed the crowd, throwing a look in her direction. She offered an apologetic smile and he waved it off, before escorting their mother away. She slowly backed away as well, her fingers anxiously fidgeting with the tassels on her shawl.

That night as she slept, she was haunted by his jade eyes.

* * *

 **AN: So I know it's taken me a while to put this up but I really wanted to make sure I got into the essence of the story and characters and hopefully portrayed them right. And thank you so much to all those who reviewed/followed/ favourited. Means a lot :')**

 **Let me know what you think. Reviews are much appreciated :)**

 **Thank you for reading!**


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